


Weechester Ficlets

by WetSammyWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/pseuds/WetSammyWinchester
Summary: All my weechesters drabbles and ficlets from tumblr. Just tooth-rotting fluff and sweet angst.





	1. Hospital Crackers

When Sam is sick, Dean tucks him under all the blankets he can find in the motel room and makes a run to the vending machine for Sam’s favorites – ginger ale and those orange cheese-and-peanut butter crackers.

Sam still calls them “hospital crackers”, because of the two days they spent living off them in the ER while John lay unconscious in a hospital bed and “Uncle Bobby” drove out from South Dakota. 

His little brother doesn’t remember the wait like Dean does, wondering whether their dad would make it, and dodging hospital staff until Bobby showed up. Sam was only five and to this day, he only recalls the crackers and the card games and curling up on the couch next to his big brother.

When Dean opens the door to the room, Sam’s head makes an appearance above the blankets.

“Did they have ‘em?”


	2. Leftovers

Dean knew something was up. His six-year-old brother wasn’t a big eater on a good day, so he looked a little sideways at the extra food piled on Sam’s plate at dinner. He didn’t say a word, but when the kid offered to clear the table and wash dishes two nights in row? That set off his big brother radar.

A few minutes later, the back door to their rundown rental house slammed shut. Dean pulled aside the curtain above the kitchen sink, and watched as Sam balanced the heaping plate of leftovers in his small hands while picking his way through the knee-high weeds to a dilapidated garage at the back of the property.

The door to the garage was left open a crack, and Dean snuck in. As he hid behind a rusty old tractor, he could hear his little brother’s voice prattling to someone else.

“There you go. Hope you like mac and cheese. It’s always my favorite. Dean makes the best mac and cheese.”

Dean was calculating how fast he could get back to the house to grab his gun when he heard Sam’s giggles and a small woof.

“Shhhhh. You have to be quiet, Dodger, or they’ll find you.”

As he peeked around the corner, he saw Sam’s arms thrown around the scrappiest looking mutt this side of a junkyard. The dog was devouring the food in front of him, and every few bites it would stop and lick the little boy’s face in gratitude. Sam never pushed the slobbery kisses away and the dog never tried to escape the loving stranglehold around its furry neck. Sam’s ratty sleeping bag was laid out on the floor nearby, and once the dog polished off his meal, the two curled around each other with Sam whispering about a book he read at school with a dragon who rescues a little boy.

No way they could keep the dog, Dean thought as he snuck back out the door unnoticed. Not with their lifestyle and not when they were hunting. But one more night wasn’t gonna hurt anyone.


	3. In The Doghouse

“C’mon, Jax. Nobody’s gonna miss us anyways.” Sam rubbed his face against the soft neck of the giant Rottweiler, hugging him tight around the neck.

When the four-year-old boy pulled back from the hug and turned his watery eyes to the Rottie, the dog ran his big tongue across Sam’s chubby cheeks, replacing salty tears with slobbery love. Sam tucked his little fingers between the soft black fur and the beat-up leather collar and together the two began the long walk towards the end of the gravel driveway of Singer Salvage. 

“I didn’t mean to rip Dean’s comic book.” Sam thought that if anyone could understand messing things up, it would be Ajax. Bobby named his junkyard dog after the mightiest of Greek warriors but was disappointed when the dog turned out to be a teddy bear who snuck scraps under the dinner table from the youngest Winchester.

When the pair reached the gate leading out to the busy county road, the Rottie sat back on its haunches and refused to budge.

“Whatcha waiting for?” Sam pulled on the collar with all his might but the little boy was no match for 130 pounds of stubborn muscle. He yanked one more time and toppled back on his butt in the dirt. Fresh tears sprung up and the dog nosed at the boy’s pout, glancing back once at the house before laying its massive head across Sam’s lap.

“Sammy!” The little boy looked up through his shaggy bangs to see his big brother running down the drive. “Whatcha doing down here by the road? Don’t leave the house like that again!”

“But you told me to go away. You don’t want me around anymore.” Sam wiped his tears off with the dusty sleeve of his thrift store shirt.

Dean hunkered down next to his little brother in the gravel, grabbing his thin shoulder tight. “Sam, I was just mad. You know I didn’t mean it. C’mon, you know I can never stay mad at you. Don’t ever try to run away again, ok?”


	4. Lasagne 1, Sam 0

It looked easy. The house they were renting came furnished with a stocked kitchen including a few cookbooks and in his boredom, Sam flipped through the pages. 

Dean and Dad were out working a case and left Sam behind this time so that he could take his algebra final at school. He and Dad were getting along (for once) and Dean seemed reluctant to leave Sam behind by himself. The least he could do was make them a hot home-cooked meal when they got back that night.

Sam had hunted ghosts and werewolves without a problem so making lasagna should be a piece of cake. 

What he didn’t realize was that cooking recipes weren’t like science experiments. You could follow all the instructions and add all the right ingredients but that didn’t mean you’d end up with something edible. So far, it was Lasagna 1, Sam 0.

First, the ground beef burned in the skillet because Sam was distracted by reading Bobby’s latest lore book at the kitchen table. Next, the pasta was over cooked, so soft and slippery that trying to layer it was a hot mess. Lastly, he bought the wrong cheese at the store, so he had to use Swiss instead of Mozzarella.

As Dad and Dean walked in the kitchen that night, a dejected Sam sat staring at a casserole dish filled with lumpy, slimy goo in tomato sauce.

John clapped his youngest on the back. “Ok, who’s up for pizza tonight?”


End file.
